A Jolly, Rocky, Molly Night
by Crumby
Summary: Molly wanted a break from her potion studies, but she didn't count on Harry's propensity for getting into trouble. What looked like a simple trip to a coffee shop turned out to be a night full of wizardly adventures.
1. Out for a Muffin

**A/N:** _Hey, guys. This short story was written to celebrate the awesome _**JoeltotheD**_ on his birthday. Though it's AU, I would time the events between _Turn Coat_ and _Changes_, so it is definitely spoilery up to that point. Also, it doesn't require previous knowledge to be read, but if you've read my stories _Requiem for Stuck Pop Stars_ and _On the Fringe of Superheroes_, you'll find that some things are familiar. That's because it's the same weirdo universe. _

_Tremendous thank you to _**mxpw**_ for first encouraging me before I even started, helping me prepare for the story, supporting me while I was writing, giving me his thoughts along the way, and beta reading this chapter, not only excellently, but in record time. Thank you, Maximus. Molly and I couldn't have done it without you._

_Joel, I hope that writing you a Molly story will make up for all the in-jokes in there. I take comfort in knowing that you *had* to know this day would happen. :D More importantly, I hope you're having a great day, and that you'll have some fun reading this. Happy birthday!_

_The whole story is written, or at least the first draft is, so it will be completed, no worries on the matter. However, I don't know when I'll be able to update the three remaining chapters. I'll try not to make you wait too long. Thanks for reading and enjoy!_

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**Chapter 1: Out for a Muffin**

Molly looked over The Stud Shop's front. She had never been to this coffee shop before, and it didn't look like Harry Dresden's usual scene. For one thing, it was very bright, large windows allowing an amount of light far superior to any place he usually enjoyed going. The red paint across the front was paired with white coloring inside, saved for the light grey of the tables, chairs, and counters—so much light. Plus, it was a coffee shop. Sure, Harry liked donuts and coffee, but he didn't _go_ to coffee shops. The IHOP, Burger King, and McAnally's were where he went. Something was up.

The sound of the announcing bell at the door shook Molly out of her thoughts on the sidewalk, and she rushed inside when realizing Harry hadn't waited for her.

"What are we doing here?" Molly asked, as she joined Harry in line, trying not to pay attention to the stares around them.

"I'm thinking blueberry," Harry said, "but that seems like the obvious choice. What do you think?"

"Blueberry?"

"For my muffin," he said. Molly frowned at the counter of baked goods in front of them. "Thomas says they have the best muffins in town."

Molly felt her frown increase. "You've seen Thomas?"

"Not yet," Harry said, stepping closer to her for an instant, as one of the customers ahead of them left with his order.

Molly had to look away. Directly to her right, next to the door, were three little round tables, and a door with bathroom signs. In front, where Harry and she were queuing up, was the counter of baked goods, with two employees behind it, coffee beans on display, and coffee machines against the wall. The counter ended in an L-shaped bar, with three or four barstools, Molly couldn't tell. In the following corner, a TV was hung, and though it was on, the sound had been muted. A sofa and a couple of really comfortable-looking armchairs circled around a coffee table at the foot of the TV screen, making the space resemble a lounge. Everywhere else were tables and chairs, not necessarily aligned, as customers seemed to be moving around the furniture quite a lot.

"Pineapple chocolate chip muffin sounds intriguing," Harry said. "Oh, look, you're in luck! They even got that organic crap you like."

"You'll change your tune when I'll still look like I do, and you'll be a hundred-years-old," Molly told him. "But since you're mentioning it, I'd love one, thank you."

"I wasn't off—fine," he said, and seeing as it was their turn, he moved to the counter. Harry started with the coffees, and to Molly's appreciation, he got her "organic crap" order right. Although, she had to roll her eyes at Harry giving _Star Wars_ character names for the order. "One blueberry, one pineapple chocolate chip, and…one apple, please."

"So what you're saying," Molly said, "is that you're not hung—"

"Oh, sorry," a young man said, after he'd bumped her shoulder as he passed by.

"—gry."

The man, who Molly thought had a British accent, gave her an apologetic smile.

"It's okay," she said, smiling back. It _was_ crowded, after all. Plus, he was cute.

She heard Harry muttering something about hormones, and turned back to him, once she'd made sure to watch the Englishman walking away to his table. "You were saying?"

Harry smirked. "A man's gotta eat. Want one? Thomas' buying."

Molly looked back at the cutie, before cursing herself for giving Harry exactly what he was waiting for.

"An English muffin, maybe?" he said.

Molly ignored him and addressed the waiting coffee shop employee. She was wearing a red t-shirt with a stud-muffin graphic both appropriate (considering the name and nature of the coffee shop), and inappropriate (considering the taste of the joke, which Molly approved of). "One apple as well, please."

The employee gave them a tight-lipped smile and handed over the muffins to Molly, while Harry paid. Since both corners were taken, Molly moved to one of the tables closest to the bar, giving them a good view of the room.

"Thomas wanted to meet here," Harry said, when he sat down next to her at the table. That was a little odd—not to be facing each other—but since Thomas was coming, people probably wouldn't pay attention. Although, since Harry had decided to keep his duster on inside the shop, contrary to Molly, who'd taken off her jacket and was simply wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt, they weren't really that inconspicuous to begin with. They rarely were, anyway.

"And Thomas wanted to see you, because?"

"I called him," Harry said. "About the FBI Fringe Division case."

Molly had figured that it wasn't a personal matter between the brothers. Sure, she'd been insistent that she could use a break from her studies, because that last potion had really been wearing her out, but Harry had never brought her along if he really didn't want to in the past. She hadn't known Harry was still working this case, though.

"They still haven't found Houdini?" she asked.

"Nope."

About three months back, Murphy had called Harry to a crime scene for a consult. Molly hadn't gone with him, but she'd seen the pictures. The victim had been some kind of bodybuilder, or bodybuilder looking-guy, but his appearance had been so extreme—borderline freakish—that Chicago PD's Special Investigations department had been assigned the investigation. It had turned out not to be much of a case, because a special division of the FBI had taken over everything.

Harry had sensed magic on the scene, however, and he'd kept investigating, despite Murphy's warnings not to. He found _nothing_; but a week or so afterwards, traces of the exact same type of magic residue he had found during the first incident appeared in Missouri. Molly had managed to invite herself on Harry's road trip (She had hidden in the back of the Blue Beetle, and Mouse had been kind enough not to reveal her presence until it'd been too late to turn around). Harry hadn't been happy about it at first, grumbling for half the trip, but it'd been fun—aside from the not finding anything useful part of the investigation, naturally. Molly had been helping Harry in his research since then.

"Uh, does Murphy know about this?" Molly asked.

"I'd tell her," Harry said, "if she returned my calls."

"Right," Molly said, though she wasn't sure she believed him. Looking up at the sound of the door bells again, Molly felt her eyes bugging out of their sockets. "Oh my God!"

"What?" Harry said, almost spitting out his mouthful of muffin. His hand moved inside his duster instantly. "What is it?"

"It's Sarah Walker!"

"Who?"

"Sarah Walker!" Molly tried not to look obvious as she indicated the pop singer to Harry. "From the CAT Squad?"

"The pop band?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Molly said. "I knew they were going to be in town with the concert being in two days, but…" She shook her head, not quite believing that Sarah Walker was here.

Harry's shoulders loosened, and he chuckled—or his version of a chuckle, all subdued so as to not be heard in public. "You a fan?"

Molly shrugged a shoulder. "Well, you know."

"Going to the concert, then?"

"Uh-uh." Molly spoke around her own mouthful. It _was_ one of the best muffins she'd ever eaten, and apple wasn't even her favorite. "Couldn't get any tickets. They sold out pretty fast, and you had to get them via the Internet, so…"

It was impossible for a wizard to make a computer work for that long of a time. Molly's abilities weren't affecting electronics much in comparison to someone like Harry, but… Alicia was still a little mad about Molly's breaking of her laptop this summer, and their mom hadn't been very pleased with the whole thing. _Color me shocked_, Molly thought for the umpteenth time.

Harry left to collect their coffees when Obi-Wan and Anakin were called. Molly could have sworn that Sarah Walker had _smiled _at the names. That couldn't be right.

"So which one's Sarah What's-Her-Pop-Star-Name?" Harry asked, when he came back. "The blonde or the brunette."

"Sarah Walker," Molly said, making an effort to enunciate the last name. It wasn't that difficult to remember! "She's the blonde; I don't know who the brunette is."

"She's pretty," Harry said, and Molly felt her neck twisting immediately to look at him. "What? She is."

Molly took a sip of her coffee, before replying, "She's taken." She wasn't completely lying; there had been rumors of a boyfriend.

"Duh," Harry said, "if she's Sarah Walker." He licked his thumbs. "She kinda looks like you, actually."

Molly tried very, very hard not too blush, but she felt the heat getting to her cheeks. It didn't help that Sarah Walker passed by them and sat down right at the table behind theirs. How much more cooler was this day going to get? Molly really wished she had a cell phone to ask for a picture, and that if she had one, it would actually function. She could use magic, she knew a trick, but Harry… _Not happening, Molly._

"Anyway," she said, "Thomas, you called him about Houdini."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Maybe he's heard of him."

"So you're ignoring Murphy?"

"Would I ever do such a thing?"

"Yes."

"Heh, probably," Harry said. "But I'm not—in this case—ignoring her. She sent me some info at the office this week. FBI reports and such."

"Thought you said she was still pissed."

"Oh, she is, but the guy—Houdini—whose real name is Dr. Clarkson, by the way, he's still out there. He might try something else, and next time we might not be as lucky. Murph's a cop, first, you know that."

"And if you find him," Molly said, "you'll be off of the FBI's radar."

"You'll be too."

"They haven't even identified me!"

"They did, but Murphy covered your ass," Harry said. "They've been trailing me for days. How many blue-haired young women do you think I have in my list of acquaintances?"

Molly ran a hand through her hair at his words. Saved for her green tips, it was back to its natural color since the incident in New York, but she was thinking about going back to pink soon. And—hellooo, Thomas! Damn sex vampires and their pheromones, or whatever they were sending all around for everybody to feel. Molly liked Harry's brother, but it wasn't that easy to control herself in his presence, not to mention that he always left her…wanting.

Thomas was wearing his usual tight pair of white leather pants, an assorted white jacket, atop of a grey fitted shirt—he was one gorgeous guy. Looking at the other customers, he visibly took a deep breath before walking to place his order. He'd lowered his pheromone-influence.

Harry started on his third muffin as Thomas sat down, giving them a nod.

"Thomas," Harry said.

"Is that Sarah Walker?" the vampire asked.

Molly was going to confirm just how cool it was, but a wave of lust struck her as Thomas scrutinized the singer, making it hard to think, and Harry beat her to it. "Hell's bells," he said. "You too?"

"Justine likes them," Thomas said with a shrug—pheromone levels dropping—and Molly could breathe again. "And they're pretty good. So, what's up?"

"I'm looking for a guy," Harry said.

"You're gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that."

Molly inwardly rolled her eyes. These two could be such a riot sometimes.

"He escaped FBI custody by leaving through the Nevernever last month in New York," Harry said.

That was new. The Nevernever had been one of their assumptions for explaining Houdini's escape—or Dr. Clarkson's escape, now that they had a real name to use instead of the moniker they'd come up with for the man. One assumption among others—not all necessarily realistic since they hadn't found any ring-shaped device enabling space transportation, so it was unlikely that Clarkson-Houdini had used a Stargate—and Harry hadn't confirmed it before.

After their unsuccessful road trip to Missouri, Harry had tracked the magical trail again to a concert hall in New York, another week or so later. This time, it had led to something, even though they hadn't been able to figure out what. The scene had been sealed down by the FBI.

Murphy had told Harry to let it be, that the FBI was handling it, and that it was their problem now. Harry had mostly just grumbled, stipulating that even though it wasn't happening in Chicago anymore, Missouri and New York were still under his Warden Regional Commander umbrella. But nothing else had happened. The Warden living in New York hadn't heard of anything, and the ParaNet hadn't been able to inform Harry on the matter either. So Harry hadn't had anything to work on. Until last month, back in New York.

After the magical alarm he had set up to track the spiritual residue had rung again, Harry hadn't wanted to waste any time, so he and Molly had immediately taken the Ways to travel to the big apple. Following the trail, they'd encountered something, somewhat similar to the first Chicago crime scene victim. But alive, the bodybuilder-guy was much more terrifying, and deadly, and he didn't look like anything of a victim. He didn't look like anything human, to be honest. Harry hadn't meant to at first, but to defend themselves, he had burned it alive. Which was when a FBI agent had spotted them, forcing Harry and Molly to flee using one of Molly's veil.

Harry had gotten in big trouble with the FBI after that.

"Is he a warlock?" Thomas asked.

"No," Harry said. "The guy's just a mortal practitioner, but I don't know what magic he used to open a Way to the Nevernever."

"What'd he do?"

"He's wanted by the FBI."

"Since when do you work for the FBI?" Thomas asked.

"I don't," Harry said. "Do you know something or not?"

"Why do you want to find him?"

This conversation felt a little like watching a ping-pong match—and not in a good way, if there was one.

"It's got nothing to do with the Wardens, or the Council, if that's what you're asking," Harry said. It was technically true. Harry wouldn't let unexplained magic practice happen on "his" territory, but he hadn't contacted the White Council about this case, or involved his fellow Wardens in an official manner. Molly had thought it was because of the FBI, but maybe he was operating on his own for another reason. Trust was her guess—it was usually the issue. "It's just a case."

Thomas bit on his muffin, taking his time. Molly buried her nose in her cup of coffee, trying not to think of what his mouth was doing, and staying out of their exchange. Harry's fingers began drumming on the table.

"I heard about something," Thomas said eventually. "Rumor—and I can't confirm any of it—is that someone, or something, has taken interest in a scientist."

_Dr. "Houdini" Clarkson._

"What kind of interest?" Molly asked before she could stop herself. She glanced at Harry, but he didn't seem bothered.

"Whatever he's been doing," Thomas said, "it's got the spiritual world interested. Can't tell you why."

"Can't tell, or you don't know?" Harry asked.

Thomas sighed. "I don't know."

It probably had to do with the magical residue Harry had found, Molly figured, while Harry took his time to consider.

"So you think someone helped him escape for his work?" he asked.

"He's a mortal." Thomas paused as though there was more meaning behind the word. "He might not have been given a choice."

Molly felt a knot overcome her stomach at the thought. Thomas knew what he was talking about. How many mortals had been mentally enslaved by vampires? And there were many other varieties of supernatural predators out there able to do the same.

Harry's eyes had taken on that shade and light they always took when something magical overpowered or threatened a defenseless mortal. He was angry. He didn't say anything, and stared at nothing for the longest time—angry stare and all—probably back to his thinking place.

"I can ask around," Thomas said after a moment. "But that's all I know for now."

Harry nodded tersely in a gesture of gratitude, before throwing his brother a piece of paper—a receipt.

"You're kidding me."

"You said you were buying," Harry said.

Thomas looked a lot like he was stifling a smile when he shook his head and put a few bills on the table.

"So," Molly said, once Thomas had walked out, taking his pheromone-filled aura with him. The temperature of the room had slightly plummeted already. "Did you learn anything?"

"Just confirms what another of my sources heard."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Molly asked. She wished the hurt wasn't as evident as it was in her voice, but she wanted to know.

"There's something about this case," Harry said. "It's dangerous."

Molly wanted to point out that she'd been in danger before, but that wouldn't really help to make her point, so she opted for looking away.

"_But_ you were there in New York," Harry continued. "In fact, I probably would have spent a few days in a FBI basement or something without your help, so…"

So he was telling her now.

"What's next?" Molly asked.

"I'm gonna keep poking around," Harry said, before being stopped by a scream.

A woman busted out of the bathroom on the other side of the coffee shop, stumbling on her way out. She was clearly frightened, her face distorted by fear. The woman fell violently in her haste. Her chin crashed against the floor, and the clap of her jaw resonated inside the suddenly silent shop.

_Ouch_, Molly thought, hoping that her tongue hadn't been standing in the way or the woman would be spitting blood soon.

Harry jumped to his feet immediately. A damsel in distress: that was something Harry Dresden couldn't resist.

Something followed the woman out. Something looking like…a tree? More like a shrub, really, considering it wasn't more than three feet tall, four tops.

For an instant, people stared. A ridiculous shrub, with big, woody, empty-looking eyes, had just come out of the bathroom. When its bark opened into a vertical split, however, and a stake launched out of it, so fast that Molly had to blink, panic erupted.

Customers rushed out the door in a frenzy of cries, cutlery flying off, chairs falling down, and the annoying door bells singing.

That was just as well, since more walking shrubs appeared from the bathroom.

"Molly!" Harry called, gesturing for her to move behind the bar on their left. His blasting rod was out. "_Forzare_," he said towards the walking shrubs.

Most of the little forest smashed against the bathroom door and wall, allowing a couple of people, close to the exit and who'd been hit, to head out.

Harry shouted to the two shop employees to use the service door. About ten people at the far end of the shop, including Harry and Molly, were still inside.

_Heavens_, Molly thought and spun around, _Sarah Walker's here!_

Sarah Walker, it turned out, had reacted quicker than Molly. She was shunting people toward the bar and lounge corner to take cover. Molly helped her doing so, as Harry made sure that the scared and hurt couple near the trees ran away. Convinced that everybody was safely behind protection, Molly looked back at their assailants.

"Harry!"

"Looks like we're having a party," he said, planting his two feet to face the trees. He sounded purposefully calm; that was his "it's going to be okay" tone. He twisted his neck to look at Molly and all the remaining people hiding in the corner beside her. "So," he told his apprentice, "did you invite the wood monsters? 'Cause I didn't."


	2. In for a Fight

**A/N: **_Hi, everyone. It's still January, so Happy New Year! Thanks to everyone for your support: reviews, comments, favorites, follows, kudos, etc. I will try my best not to make you wait too long for the next update. In any case, the story will be completed by the end of February, at the latest._

_Thanks also to_ **mxpw** _for beta reading this chapter._

_Have a good weekend! _

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**Chapter 2: In for a Fight**

Wood monsters, it turned out, were more difficult to fight than anticipated. After a handful of "_Forzares_", coupled with a few "_Ventas servitas,_" the coffee shop attackers' number had led Harry to slightly retreat.

Chatter between the remaining customers had started anew once the general shock of the situation had faded. Molly, though she tried to be conspicuous, mostly kept her attention on Sarah Walker and her brunette friend. Beside the wood monsters, of course!

"Holy music," Sarah Walker said at one point from behind the sofa. "I can't believe this is happening again!"

This caught Harry's attention. "What'd you mean?" he asked, crouching down next to Molly. They were trying to avoid flying stakes, but Harry was so tall, he looked awkward. "You've seen these before?"

"Um, no," Sarah Walker said after some hesitation. "Not them specifically. I was just talking about," she gestured around in the general wood monsters' direction, "monster-y stuff."

"Oh. You see a lot of them?"

"Just once," the pop star said. "That was enough. What about you?"

"I've had my share of monsters," Harry said.

What was this, a tea party? Did he really have to flirt with one of Molly's favorite singers? Seriously? She couldn't even really blame him, damn it. It was Sarah Walker.

"Are you with the Fringe Division?" Sarah asked them both, looking from Harry to Molly and back again.

She knew about the Fringe Division? Of course, she did. Sarah Walker was so cool.

"You know them?" Harry asked.

"Met them," Sarah said. "That one time."

"Right. No, we're not with them, but this is actually our department. Grasshopper—"

Whatever the instruction he was planning on giving her was, Molly would never know. A wood monster emerged from the other side of the bar. Harry used his blasting rod to fight it off, keeling it over and back behind the bar.

Molly's eyes swept the space around her, and she grabbed one of the barstools. Holy heck, that was heavy. She focused on throwing the barstool at an approaching shrub, which cracked the tiny trunk in two, before letting out a cry at a sudden pain in her arm. It looked like a freaking stake had grazed her.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," Molly said, annoyed. Pushing her back against the bar as she squatted down, a hand brushing the blood from her bicep, Molly tried not to get angry about the trees ruining her "Don't make me call my flying monkeys!" t-shirt. It was one of her favorites. "Wow, Harry!"

Her mentor turned to look at the source of Molly's exclamation.

Sarah Walker had stood up from the lounge area, and was now karate-fu-ing a wood monster. The tree fell on its face—or the side where its eyes were, at least—with a huge thump, and a creaking noise.

"Wow!" Harry said. "You fight a lot?"

"I've been taking self-defense lessons lately," Sarah said. "I'm pretty good at it."

"We can tell."

"Ellie?" Sarah asked her friend.

"I'm okay," the brunette said.

Harry suddenly jumped next to Sarah in two long strides. "_Riffletum!_" he shouted, his left hand raised in front of the pop star.

The monster that Sarah had just pushed down had rolled over so that it could spit a stake from the floor. The stake stopped in the air and rebounded against the invisible shield Harry had created, lighting up his shield bracelet.

"Okay," Harry growled, "I've had enough. Everyone step back."

Uh-oh.

"_Fuego!_"

Harry's blasting rod took on an incandescent light, before fire hit the closest wood monster.

"You're gonna burn the shop down!" Molly said.

As if _just _to contradict her—and that was typical—a brief cry left the burning tree, before it disappeared in a heap of ashes.

"Looks like I'm not," Harry felt the need to say.

He repeated the action with every single wood monster, without stopping, a determined look plastered on his face, while also dodging stakes. Molly hoped she'd never do anything stupid enough to have to face _this_ Harry.

"Hello there, Woody," Harry said to the tallest tree.

Right, that must be the leader.

"Woody? Am I a child's toy?" the monster said, in a timbered voice.

"Uh…" Molly said. "Wouldn't you be a cowboy, then?"

"That's an excellent point, grasshopper."

"Harry Dresden," the tree said. "My name's Danny."

"Danny the wood monster," Harry said. "Great, now that we got introductions out of the way, how about you leave?"

"I came to warn you, Harry Dresden," Danny the wood monster said, making Harry's grip visibly tighten on the rod he was holding in front of him. "Stop asking questions."

Harry fired up a couple of Danny's remaining minions around them, before he spat, "Asking questions about what?"

Molly inwardly shook her head at the smile tugging at his lips. _Yes, we see what you did there._

A shrub hobbling to Danny said, "Let's roll, Danny!"

"Yeah, Danny, let's rock!" another agreed.

Danny the wood monster didn't move. "Let this affair be," he said.

Harry used his shield bracelet once more to avoid a stake, and finished setting the minions on fire. Molly winced watching the shrubs burning and disintegrating one after the other, rendering the coffee shop a mess of soot and ashes. One of them wobbled down, and dropped against Danny, still burning.

"Whoops," Harry said when fire ignited the wood monsters' leader.

Utterly unfazed by his inflammatory state, Danny kept talking in the same inexpressive tone. "I'm only a messenger," he said. "Stop asking questions and no one has to get hurt. My master considers you presently warned."

Even in death, Danny was sort of lame, Molly thought. In hindsight, these wood monsters had been rather anti-climactic. Couldn't they do anything else other than throwing stakes? They weren't even good at it.

"Tree bad. Fire pretty," Harry said with a smirk, right before Danny ashed away. "Who would send wood monsters after me?" he asked, turning to Molly. "Me! I love fire! Can't supernatural beings do their research?"

"Isn't it a good thing?" Molly said.

"It's insulting."

Molly chuckled. "O-kay."

Harry glanced around, before relenting. "I guess it can be a good thing."

"Murphy's probably not going to be happy about this, though," Molly said, as she looked around the place once again.

The coffee shop was in shambles: furniture and dishes lying around broken, traces of flames on the floor and walls, the smell of burned wood, the bathroom door had given way out of its hinges… And a bunch of civilians had seen Harry using his powers. Rationalization could only take you so far. When a number of other people had seen the same things you had, you were less susceptible to forget about it.

Closing his eyes, Harry sighed. "Probably not."

—M—

"Jesus, Harry," Murphy said. "What did you do this time?"

Facing the other way, Harry startled. A frightened expression flashed across his face, making Molly smile, before he sobered up quickly.

"Howdy, Murph," he said, turning his neck to see the police officer coming around their table. "We are fine, thank you."

Murphy's jaw worked, and glancing at Molly, her face softened before she asked if she was okay.

"It's just a graze," Molly replied. "Dr. Bartowski's taking care of it."

"Ellie," the brunette sitting down next to Molly corrected, and she gave a greeting nod to Murphy. She was cleaning up the minor wound with compresses she'd taken from the EMTs who'd been called on scene.

Once Danny the wood monster had been taken care of, the priority had been on helping the few customers who'd been hit by stakes, or hurt in the panicked rush out. The brunette woman accompanying Sarah Walker—Ellie Bartowksi—was a doctor, and she'd taken the situation in hand. Not long after, the police and ambulances had arrived at The Stud Shop. Everyone had naturally pointed to Harry to answer the questions of the police, and he'd told them to call SI and Murphy.

Assured that Molly was fine, Murphy turned back to Harry. "What happened?"

"Trees," Molly said, "lots and lots of trees."

Harry smiled. Murphy didn't.

"Some kind of tree creatures—probably from the Nevernever—were sent here to deliver a message," Harry said.

"Should we talk about this elsewhere?" Murphy asked with a glance at Dr. Bartowski.

"I'm almost done," the doctor said.

"It's fine," Harry said. "Ellie's seen the whole thing, anyway."

Chewing on her lip, Murphy waited for a moment before asking, "What kind of message?"

"That I need to stop asking questions."

Murphy's expression changed. Molly wasn't sure if it was incredulity or disapproval—perhaps, both. "Someone sent some tree creatures, that you could easily burn down, to tell you—you, Harry Dresden, to stop asking questions?"

"I know," Harry said.

"It's like they don't know you at all," Murphy said, as though she hadn't even heard him. "Shouldn't they do a little research before sending trees to the wood chipper?"

"That's what I said!"

Molly rolled her eyes at the duo. She'd tell them to get a room if it didn't make her want to puke. Even Dr. Bartowski was smiling. As she looked away, Molly spotted Sarah Walker walking back to their table. At least, the afternoon hadn't been wasted: getting to meet Sarah Walker was definitely an upside. Molly wished she had her old _Rocky Road Dreams_ CD single with her to get autographed. She had listened to that song so many times; it was still her go-to song to get through a bad day, even though now Molly had to stand far away from the stereo to make sure she wouldn't mess with it.

"Everybody's fine," Sarah said when she arrived within earshot. "Hi, Sarah Walker," she added, extending her hand to Murphy.

Murphy looked intently at the pop star, turned to Harry and Molly with a stunned gaze, and after another handful of seconds, finally shook Sarah Walker's hand. "Sergeant Murphy, Chicago PD."

"Oh, Harry's friend!" Sarah said. _Ugh_, Molly thought, though if there was someone who could make that sound okay it was Sarah Walker. "He was quite the lifesaver."

"Was he?" Murphy smirked at Harry, whose face was sort of reddening, Molly realized.

With a pat on the bandage around Molly's bicep, Dr. Bartowski spoke up. "Okay, you're good. Keep it dry and clean for a couple of days."

"Thanks."

"Penny's arrived," Sarah told the doctor. "She's waiting outside, they won't let anybody inside the perimeter."

"Oh, right," Dr. Bartowski said. "I forgot."

"Are we good to leave?" Sarah asked Murphy.

Murphy made sure the two women's depositions and details had been taken by her colleagues, before releasing them. They left with another brunette, who seemed quite shocked and agitated by the events.

"So," Murphy said when she caught up to Harry and Molly again, "you think this has something to do with the Hulks case?"

"The Hulks case?" Molly asked.

"That's how the Fringe team calls it," Harry said.

Well, it did make sense. The bodybuilder-guys kind of looked like Hulks. Except less cool, since they weren't green and they weren't Mark Ruffalo either.

"Timing fits," Harry told Murphy as she straightened up a fallen chair to sit down with them. "We were meeting here with Thomas to see if he'd heard something about Clarkson, actually."

"Learned anything?"

"It seems that Clarkson's work had some value for the spiritual world," Harry said. "It's unclear what it is exactly, I've never heard of magical beings taking an interest in science like that before."

"That's what the magic you found on the first case was?" Murphy asked.

"I'm assuming, yeah."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Molly asked Murphy. The cop only frowned in question. "I thought the FBI didn't want Harry anywhere near this case."

"Oh, they changed their minds, I guess," Murphy said.

Molly squinted at her.

"Murphy made them changed their minds," Harry said.

"They're not idiots," Murphy said. "They want Clarkson as much as we do. Can't blame them for being careful, after the two of you blatantly decided to barbeque a Hulk in New York while a full FBI raid was on."

Still a little pissed, then.

"It was self-defense," Harry said, so lamely nobody even tried to pretend.

"Anyway, what does it mean?" Murphy asked. "Someone gave Clarkson the ability to disappear?"

"Or someone helped him escape," Harry said. "I'm not even sure if he's a practitioner at all. He has to use computers, and all sorts of electronic devices for his work, right?"

"Thomas did point out that Clarkson could have been taken against his will," Molly said.

"Oh." Murphy's eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh. "That changes things."

Silence lapsed for a little while. Harry and Murphy were visibly thinking the case over. Molly would have too, but something else popped into her mind.

For some reason, Molly lowered her head closer to the table and took on a conspiratorial tone. "Do you know who Sarah Walker's friends were?" she asked.

Harry spoke before Murphy could reply. "I never pictured you for a girl band fan."

Murphy glared at him. "Not all girl bands," she said. "The CAT Squad, though? They're pretty cool."

Molly grunted in agreement. She'd seen Murphy have entire conversations with grunts and suspected that it was the cop's way of navigating through a man's world. Molly was trying it out. She wasn't nailing it just yet, and Harry gave her a funny look.

"Sarah Walker seemed to think you were pretty cool too," Murphy told Harry, with the same smirk she'd been sporting earlier.

Harry's neck slightly buried into his shoulder as he looked embarrassed for a second, though he replied slyly, "Too bad Molly says she's taken."

Murphy laughed. Molly wanted to roll her eyes again, but settled on re-tying her hair properly.

"There's at least one good thing," Murphy said.

"What's that?" Molly asked.

"Whoever took Clarkson, or whoever's working with him, they've now officially pissed Harry Dresden off, right?"

"Damn, straight," Harry said.

"So what do you propose we do about it?"

Harry glanced at Molly first. Then he turned his eyes on Murphy, and said as though it was the most logical answer in the world, "I think we should get some pizza."


	3. No Stones Unturned

**A/N:** _Huge thanks to_ **mxpw** _for beta reading this chapter, and thank you all for reading/reviewing. :)_

* * *

**Chapter 3: No Stones Unturned**

Molly kicked her right boot against a tiny stone.

"It's not going to be much longer," Harry said.

She turned around in the alley where her mentor had parked the Blue Beetle. They were a couple of streets away from The Stud Shop, out of sight, waiting. Waiting for a little while now, and the sun had started setting.

"You said that half an hour ago." Molly faced him. Harry had his arms crossed over his black duster in a casual stance, and was leaning against his ridiculous, cute car.

"You know how it is," Harry said, as he took on that adult, knowing tone he used with her when he was teaching Molly something. "Waiting is part of the job."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Molly muttered, kicking another stone.

Harry chuckled. "You're right, it doesn't." He paused. "How's the arm?"

Realizing she was pressing her fingers against the spot where her bandage was covering her arm underneath her leather jacket, Molly buried her hands in her pockets. "It's fine." Since he'd probably keep asking if she didn't tell him more now, she went on, "Itches a little bit."

He nodded, and they fell back in somewhat of a comfortable silence, Molly keeping her pacing next to the pizza placed on the ground. The pizza that Harry had bought before parking in the alley hadn't been for them—which had been, in a way, reassuring, considering Harry had just engulfed three big muffins before the wood monsters' attack. No, the pizza was destined to a little fae going by the name of Toot-toot. Molly wasn't clear on exactly who Toot-toot was, and Harry didn't seem to be inclined in telling her much more than he had. ("Toot-toot is part of the Little Folk, and if you don't know who they are, you should read about it when we get back, because I'm pretty sure we've talked about this before.") But Harry had called up Toot-toot and asked for information in exchange for the food, and it'd looked like a frequent habit between them. Murphy hadn't come along, needing to get back to the precinct and take care of cleaning up the mess made at the coffee shop.

A buzzing sound announced Toot-toot's reappearance, and he was suddenly standing in front of the pizza, between Harry and Molly. The sphere of light surrounding his tiny figure was even more blinding in the gloom of the night, reflecting off the various trash Toot-toot was wearing—Molly wasn't sure how else to call it—serving as what looked like an armor.

"My Lady," Toot-toot said to Molly before speaking to Harry, "My Lord."

Harry's eyes shined with amusement every time Toot-toot addressed him in that manner, but he was obviously taking on an air of solemnity for the Little Folk's sake. Once the surprise and puzzlement had passed, Molly had decided it best to simply follow Harry's lead and do the same. She could feel a great amount of respect coming from the little flying guy.

"Found anything?" Harry asked.

"It wasn't easy, my Lord," Toot-toot said. "The whereabouts of the man of science have been greatly hidden."

"That's why I came to you, Major General," Harry said. "You and the Guard are the best there is for this kind of mission."

Toot-toot's silver wings whizzed as he looked very proud of the compliment, making his purple hair swing. "Indeed, my Lord," he said. "And the Za-Lord's Guard doesn't disappoint. Word on the streets is that the man of science was taken by a demon."

"What kind of demon?"

"A demon of reptilian shape and teeth sharper than swords," Toot-toot said with excitement. Seeing as they would likely be facing said demon, Molly didn't share the sentiment. "A highlander."

"You mean he's Scottish?" Molly asked. "Like Duncan McLeod?"

"Who else?" Harry said. "There can be only one."

After sharing an amused look with her mentor, Molly looked back to the little fae. Toot-toot's face conveyed perplexity; he seemed lost, and Harry must have caught on to it, because his tone was gentle when he asked him, "Do you mean that he lives on an island?"

Oh, _islander_.

"Yes, my Lord, from the old continent, where we've also heard they have great pudding!" Toot-toot said, licking his lips.

"England then," Harry said, though he seemed to be thinking out loud. "Anything else?"

"His folk are of Nor, and his village shares its name with Colorado," Toot-toot said, now looking like he was reciting something he'd heard. No wonder it just sounded like riddles to Molly, Toot-toot likely didn't know what he was saying himself. "He's strong, but not in the habit of dealing with mortal affairs. The spiritual community has many interrogations about the demon's recent doings and motives, but very few answers."

Harry waited a few seconds, probably making sure Toot-toot was done. Then he spoke in a military cadence. "Great report, soldier. You may take your reward, and…" Harry stopped to fish something out of his duster's pocket. "This complementary muffin."

The light around Toot-toot blinked as it shined harder for a second. He didn't waste time in buzzing away; taking his fee with much appreciation to his lord and the lady that accompanied him.

"Did you make anything of that?" Molly asked, walking back to the Blue Beetle. Harry probably did, being smart and all.

"Let's go back," he said. "I need to call Murphy."

"Okay. Why?"

"She doesn't practice magic, but she has a power we wizards don't." Harry smiled taking his time to put on his seat belt, enjoying the prolong suspense. "Murphy can use the Internet."

—M—

"This is ridiculous," Molly said for the third time in the last fifteen minutes.

"Would you quit bitching? It's not a good look on you."

"That's very nice, Harry." Molly kept hiking the hill, focusing on her steps and the sinuous terrain. "You can just admit that you've no idea where to go."

Of course, she knew he'd never admit that. They'd been wandering around the Nevernever for at least an hour, using the Ways and desperately trying to find the little village of Denver, Norfolk in bloody England.

"It shouldn't be that—"

Harry's sentence cut off as he vanished with a scream that was a lot more high-pitched than Molly was used to hearing from his baritone voice. Mouse barked, and Molly followed the dog to the pit that Harry had fallen into. Hovering at the edge, she called his name. It echoed down.

"Hell's to the fucking bells!"

"Are you alright?"

Molly heard Harry pat his duster, probably getting dust off it, but she couldn't make out more than blurred movements in the darkness of the pit. Mouse had stopped barking, though, so she figured Harry was okay. The dog knew these things.

After another set of colorful curse words, Harry finally replied. "I'm _fine_."

"Can we go ask someone how to get to Denver now?"

"Fine!" he repeated in a spat.

—M—

"What happened to you?" Murphy asked when she descended the stepladder leading to Harry's basement.

"Nothing!" Harry said even as Molly replied with a smile that he didn't want to talk about it.

Murphy carefully contained her laughter for a few seconds, but Molly knew she wouldn't hold long. "You're back early," the blonde cop said, positively amused.

After talking on the phone with Murphy and figuring out the location indicated by Toot-toot's report, she and Harry had agreed that Murphy would come to Harry's apartment and wait for him, Molly, and Mouse to come back using the Ways.

Harry spun around briskly to glare. "Are we?"

"It's been a couple of hours here," Murphy said, checking her watch.

He nodded tersely and said, "I need to change," clearly annoyed, before disappearing up the stepladder.

Mouse moaned next to Molly.

"Oh, right. Come here, boy," she said, leading him upstairs.

"I'm guessing Mouse doesn't want to talk about it either," Murphy said, following them.

Mouse gave Murphy a doggy smile, while Molly grabbed his brush and began cleaning the dust off him.

"We're going back," Molly said when the silence was starting to get heavy, "but we needed more info."

Harry walked out of his bedroom in a new pair of jeans and shirt. He looked refreshed and some of the annoyance had faded, if mildly. He caught his duster back from where he must have left it on the couch, and put it back on, before letting out a loud sigh.

"It's going to be morning soon in Denver," he told Murphy.

"Yes…"

"The sun will be up. Is Mister…" Harry trailed off, looking up at his bookshelves. "Good."

The cop glanced at Molly without moving her head, and then titled it to the side. She grunted. "You need Mister?"

"What for?" Molly asked.

Harry delicately cradled his giant grey cat in his arms. Mister merely purred in response. "I'll need a minute downstairs," he said.

A thin line appeared between Murphy's eyebrows, but she had a look of recognition on her face, and she glanced at Molly once more.

"What for?" Molly asked again.

"I'll call you when Mister and I are ready to go," Harry told her, descending to the basement. Mouse moaned again. "You too, Mouse."

Molly hated when this happened. What was Harry going to do with Mister? She looked back at Murphy, and was sure the police officer knew.

Whatever Harry had been doing, it didn't take long. "Let's go, grasshopper."

—M—

Mister immediately bolted upon arriving at Denver.

Molly wished Harry had taken the cat with him from the start, it would have saved them some time—however Mister knew where to go. Molly still wasn't clear on that. At least, she had had her fun reenacting Harry's girly scream as he'd fallen into the pit earlier.

"Mister," Harry called, and the cat inexplicably stopped and turned to look back. "Get back here as soon as you find Dr. Clarkson," he said in a firm tone.

Molly searched around the deserted road they'd ended up on, and walked to a milestone to sit down. As glad as she was about being part of the adventure, waiting sucked, and she was starting to feel a little tiredness. After what looked like an inspection of their whereabouts, Mouse came to lie at her feet. Molly decided a little small talk wouldn't hurt keeping her from boredom.

"So, how come Murphy knows about Mister?"

"That he's a cat?" Harry said. "She's a detective, you know."

"He knows his way around the Nevernever."

"Molly," Harry warned.

"I'm just curious."

"This isn't a competition."

"I wasn't—" Molly let out a sigh. "I'm just asking about, I don't know, the case that led to it. I've never seen you use Mister before. I'm guessing you didn't simply decide one day to take Murphy to your basement, and show her whatever you did with Mister just for the fun of it."

Harry looked in the horizon in silence for a moment. "She knows the basics of it, is all," he said eventually. "It's nothing."

"Then why keep it a secret?"

"Because," Harry said. "It's a well-kept secret, and it needs to stay that way. So does Toot-toot."

"I'm not going to tell anyone." She didn't even know what was going on with Mister.

"Knowledge is power," Harry went on, moving to face her. Since she was sitting down and he was straight on his feet, Molly had to crane her neck to see his face clearly. "I don't let people know about these things because I like secrets—though I do like my secrets and my privacy—but I also simply can't always afford to let people in the know."

"I know."

"I've been working with Murphy for a while; she's seen a lot, we've fought a lot together, and that's why she knows and I have no qualms about it," he continued as though Molly wasn't even talking.

She didn't like when Harry did that, but if it was important enough for him to get into lecture mode, then she'd listen.

"So I hope you'll keep that in mind if or when the situation presents itself that you're tempted to use that knowledge."

Molly would tell him she wouldn't be tempted, but they both knew it probably wasn't true. In truth, she might _need_ to use this information at one point or another to help Harry, or somebody else who required her help. The question was about whether she'd judge the situation correctly. She'd been wrong before, even if she hadn't meant to.

"You've worked hard, your magic is getting stronger, and you're learning to get a handle on your emotions. That's good. You've got a lot left to learn, but that's good. And that's why I agreed to let you come with me to New York before, or to see Thomas today."

Harry waited, looking at her straight in the eyes. That was always odd, since as wizards, they couldn't do that with people without the risk of embarking on a soulgaze. Even with them having shared a soulgaze before—and Molly tried not to think about it, though there was no way to ever forget what she'd seen—out of habit, Harry and Molly rarely made prolonged eye contact. When he wanted to make a point, though, he did. Like he was right now.

Molly merely nodded. There was much she wanted to say—even if her throat felt really dry and a wave of warmth had overflowed her completely, contrasting with the coolness of the early British morning—but she knew that what she needed to do wasn't about words. What she needed was proving Harry he wasn't making a mistake every time he revealed something to her. So that's what she'd do.

Mister came back after a little more than thirty minutes.

—M—

"Stars and stones."

"Well," Molly said, "mostly stones, in this case."

Harry glowered, but there was somewhat of a spark in his eyes. They were at a rock quarry, after all. It _was_ mostly stones.

"What do you think reptilian-shaped-demon-with-teeth-sharper-than-swords is doing here?" Molly asked.

"I, uh," Harry said. "I have no idea."

Mister had led them to a closed quarry at the outskirts of Denver. It was unclear how long it'd been out of service. There were several vehicles in the yard, including a massive dump-truck with a bed still full of gravel or rocks, Molly wasn't sure. The "Closed" sign at the gate might have been installed recently.

"Why even be in the mortal world?" Molly asked. "Wouldn't the Nevernever be a better, I don't know, environment for a demon?"

"Toot-toot said the demon didn't usually get involved in mortal affairs, yet it's taken a mortal now. Maybe that's why it's here, because of Clarkson."

"Okay," Molly said, considering. "Because of his work, right?"

"Yeah, that's the only reason we've got for his kidnapping. Go on, padawan."

"So the demon wants something to do with Clarkson's work," Molly resumed, "and he can't take him to the Nevernever because… Because his science wouldn't work there."

Molly had a brief thought about Butters getting a rash at the very poor science talks she and Harry had been having during this case.

Harry nodded, and gave her a smile. "That's what I'm thinking."

"Good thing I'm here," Molly said.

"Why's that?"

"Quarry's closed, and if the demon and Clarkson are here, it's probably inside those prefabricated units." She pointed at the small buildings on the right. "Only way to be sure is to go have a look, and," Molly paused for dramatic effect (she wasn't Harry's apprentice for nothing), "lucky for you, we can do that without being seen if I veil us."

Harry looked down at Mouse beside him, and said, "They grow up so fast." The dog's tail wagged right and left several times. "Next thing we know she'll be setting wood monsters on fire."

Molly didn't say anything.

"Good call, kiddo," Harry told her more seriously. Molly tried not to preen, despite the irritating moniker. "That's exactly what we're gonna do. Mister," he said, his voice taking on the strangely firm intonation he'd been using with his cat, "Mouse, you two stay here for now. Let us know if you see anything."

Harry placed his hand on Molly's shoulder and gave her a nod.

Molly closed her eyes for an instant, breathed deeply a couple of times, clearing her mind and focusing on her will and magic the way she'd learned to do under Harry's training. And the veil was on. It was one skill she'd been kind of mastering, not to brag or anything.

They were careful not to be noisy in their steps as they walked inside the dusty yard. They might be invisible, but they weren't mute. Ahead of the entrance and on the left was the quarry; the terrain descending in equal stratum, except for what looked like a path at one location. The prefabricated units were on the right. Since there weren't any visible windows, Harry and Molly made their way around it.

A window at the back let through some light from inside. It was still early and dark. Approaching, Harry had no trouble looking within the room, but Molly had to stand on her tiptoes to get a clear view. It was somewhat of a cozy, gloomy office. Harry would probably like it here.

"What's he wearing?" was the first thing she said, after observing the only man present.

"Shh."

"Sorry," she whispered.

"It's him," Harry said, even lower.

"Clarkson?"

"Yup. And it kinda looks like a Loki costume, doesn't it?"

After a particularly demanding case, Harry had once taken Molly to see _The Avengers_ at a drive-in where he liked to go. She had wondered why he'd done it, considering how uncomfortable (and how often he blushed, though Molly thought it was adorable) he'd looked at all the stares they'd been given, but they had shared a good time.

"I guess if you had the cape and the helmet," Molly said, trying to visualize it. "What's he doing?"

"You do know I just got here with you," Harry said. She glowered at him. "He's probably doing his science thing."

Dr. Clarkson looked wrecked. He was pale, so much so that he'd likely be paler than most inhabitants of this country. His face was marked, with wrinkles and bags under his eyes—eyes that were completely void. Even more than the wood monsters' had been.

"He looks absent."

"Probably under an enchantment," Harry said.

It definitely would explain his blank look of concentration. Clarkson was hard at work on whatever he was doing—typing on his several computers, looking into his microscopes, rearranging wires and components on some device in the middle on the room.

After a minute of silence, Molly glanced sideways at Harry. His face conveyed his own deep concentration. His eyebrows were furrowed over his eyes, which seemed to be seeing something that wasn't there. His Sight, Molly figured, he was probably using his Sight. Harry's eyelids dropped for a few seconds, and he exhaled loudly as they reopened.

"I don't get it," Harry said, thinking out loud. "How can magic coexist with what he's doing?"

"You saw it?" Molly couldn't sense it from this distance.

"It's barely there, a touch really, but it's there. He must not yet be as far in his work as he was before."

The lights flickered inside.

"Uh-oh," Harry said.

"Is it you?"

"The power unit might be clo—"

Harry cut off as everything inside faded to black.

"Hell's bells," he said. "Let's go back in front, he might leave."

Before they could skirt the corner, Molly saw the lights come back on from the corner of her eyes. "Wait!"

They stopped, and Harry pursed his lips. He looked around the corner, and then around them, gaze sweeping with intensity. "Go have a look," he said eventually, "I'll wait here."

"But—"

"Check the second window. See if there's anybody else with Clarkson."

As pleasant and soothing as the release of tension was when Molly broke the veil on Harry, she couldn't help but worry.

"I'll be fine," Harry said. "Go."

Molly took advantage of her veil to allow herself a pout. It was sort of annoying how he anticipated what she was thinking sometimes. He couldn't even see her at the moment!

She turned around and went to check on Clarkson. He'd left the room. After looking at Harry, who was eyeing her, Molly moved to the following window. She found the doctor in the adjacent room. There was what looked like a fuse box in the corner, and she figured he'd gone to inspect it, because he was returning the other way already.

"I didn't see anybody else," she told Harry, approaching back.

"Looks like it's our window, then," Harry said.

"Window for what?"

"To get Clarkson quietly."

"You never do anything quietly."

"Yes, I do," Harry said, almost offended.

Molly felt her eyebrows rise. "What about the demon?"

"We'll see what we do about that once we get Clarkson," Harry said. "C'mon!"


	4. Sink like a Stone

**Chapter 4: Sink like a Stone**

"I think you're taking your Natasha-liking a little too far, Harry."

"What?"

Molly glanced meaningfully at the man lying on the ground. "Since when does cognitive recalibration actually get people out of a spell?"

"Cognitive rec—ha-ha," Harry said. "I did hit him really hard on the head, but it wasn't to get him out of the spell. It was to get him out, period."

"Admit it, Loki inspired you."

Harry only sneered, moving low beside Clarkson to grab him. "I don't think there's such a thing as taking a Natasha-liking too far, anyway," he said, once the body was over his shoulder.

Molly rolled her eyes and walked out through the door. After they'd gone to get Mister and Mouse, they had barged inside the prefabricated units. Harry had quickly knocked out Clarkson, who clearly hadn't been compelled to defend himself under attack. Harry had also toasted Clarkson's entire set up, and it smelled like fried circuits inside. The fresh air was much better. She was also glad to get away from the unsettling, undefined tingle that her spidey-senses were sending her. The magic residue coming from Clarkson's device was definitely not as strong as what she had felt in Missouri (which had been the only location on the list where she'd been come close enough to experience it), but it was still strange.

"What? It's true! Black Widow kicks ass!"

"I know," Molly said, giving Mouse a pat as he joined her outside. "Can we go now?"

Harry laughed, but she heard him move. Because her hands were on him, she also felt Mouse tense abruptly, before he growled. He didn't growl like that unless it was serious.

"I'm afraid that you can't," a deep, bass voice said in an English accent.

She spun around as Mouse barked, and her eyes must have bogged out almost comically, because holy heck! What was this? It had a reptile shape, all right. The demon looked like a bloody dinosaur!

Not a real dinosaur, not any kind she'd ever seen before in any case, but he was greenish and covered in scales. His two legs were longer than usual dinosaur representations in comparison to its narrow body, his neck wasn't very long, and he had real arms. His face, though… His face resembled more like one of those long-necked _herbivore_ dinosaurs than say, a T-rex, which was good…possibly. It was still scary as heck, and his teeth were definitely not indicative of a vegetarian diet.

"Molly," she heard Harry say, and inwardly cursed herself at his tone. He was right: she should have already been out of sight.

Combat wasn't really Molly's forte. She knew it. It irked, if she was being honest with herself, especially when her mentor was the king of combat magic, and she had witnessed Harry's skills on the matter, but there weren't much she could do about it. Warrior just wasn't meant to be her path. Not in the traditional sense, at any rate.

Her veil was on immediately, and she started retreating slowly.

Dino-demon's nostrils flared and his eyes searched for her for a second, before he turned to the door. "Harry Dresden," he said.

It was odd. Molly wondered how he could speak in this way when he basically looked like a prehistoric animal. It sort of looked like a cartoon: his jaw opened, but his "lips" didn't move.

"That's me," Harry said, walking out alone with his blasting rod in hand.

"I warned you, Harry Dresden," Dino-demon said.

"You can call me Dresden, I won't take offense," Harry said. "I mean, saying Harry Dresden every time is kind of pompous, don't you think?"

"I thought that my message had been clear," Dino-demon said.

"About that," Harry said, and he scratched Mouse's ears with his free hand. The dog stopped growling, but he was still at attention. Mister had made himself scarce. "I like asking questions."

"This private affair was none of your concern, Dresden."

"Heh." Harry drew out the sound in a disagreeing manner. "It kind of was."

"No, it wasn't."

"Heh," Harry said again. "A little bit."

Dino-demon took a step forward. "I don't play games, Harry Dresden."

"Dresden," Harry corrected. "I don't play games, either. Not when dinosaurs decide to kidnap and enchant mortals."

The demon titled his head, looking in the direction of the units. "Isn't the scientist an outlaw in your world? His existence won't be missed."

"You really aren't any good at research, are you?" Harry said. "That's not how it works."

"How does it work, then?"

Harry raised his index finger. "Humans deal with their human problems." He raised a second finger. "Demons stay out of it."

Molly realized Harry's fingers were forming a V sign and he was just giving Dino-demon the two-fingered salute. She swallowed her compulsion to laugh at the absurdity of it. Sometimes he was as bad as any people "her age." She'd have to remind him of this moment next time he'd insinuate her not being mature enough.

"I see," Dino-demon said.

"Do you?" Harry asked, still holding up his hand.

"Indeed."

"Then we can take him home, and everyone gets to go their separate ways." Harry twisted his wrist so that his palm was now outward. "In peace."

_What a dork!_

"That's a noble offer," Dino-demon said, and Molly didn't know whether he was being sarcastic or not. He was hard to read. He had a dinosaur face. "But I'm afraid I can't let you do that."

Here it was. That wasn't in any case surprising, but one could have hoped it wouldn't get to battle. Especially for one that wasn't very good at battle. Though, both Harry and his opponent had undoubtedly been preparing for their first blow since the first words they'd uttered to each other. Molly didn't know what spell Harry would be using, but it would probably be some kind of windy force or another.

"Why not?" Harry said.

"I warned you, Harry Dresden," Dino-demon said.

_Think, Molly._

She wasn't going to blast Dino-demon with fire, but she could still help. She _had_ skills, and most important of all, as Harry liked to tell her, she had a brain.

_Look for weapons._

"Are we going to do this all over again?" Harry said.

There were a few things inside; Molly tried to remember what she'd seen. Mostly fried electronics, wires, microscopes, beakers and a few other recipients—though if she didn't know what was in them, she couldn't use them…

"I can't have my warning rendered meaningless." If he could smile, Molly was pretty certain Dino-demon was at this moment. "That's not how it works."

Harry smiled too, upon recognizing his own words. "How does it work, then?"

Molly scanned the yard more closely than she had earlier. The sun had risen and enlightened the day. Behind Dino-demon, on the right, a small car was parked next to the dump-truck. A small heap of sand separated them from an excavator, parked carelessly in the diagonal.

"You may go, you and your friends." Dino-demon's head bobbed at Mouse, beside Harry. "We never cross path again."

"That's what—"

"But the scientist's mine," Dino-demon went on, and there wasn't any smile left in his tone.

Harry's lips formed a thin line, and he sighed. He glanced around briefly, without moving his neck. Maybe he was wondering where his apprentice was.

"Why do you want him so badly?" Harry said.

"You don't know?" Dino-demon said. "Haven't you done your research?"

"Touché." Harry actually chuckled. "It's a shame, Littlefoot, I kind of like you."

"It isn't a shared sentiment, Harry Dresden," Dino-demon said.

"Yeah, it rarely is. I don't take it personally."

"You likely should."

Harry laughed again. It was a sad laugh. Molly didn't like it.

There wasn't any warning, not that Molly could tell, when Dino-demon sprung into action. He dashed onwards, straight to Harry—and he was fast on his feet.

Harry stretched out his right hand, palm opened, and cried out, "_Forzare!_"

The force of the spell didn't send Dino-demon flying, it only skidded him to a halt, creating a small cloud of dust at his feet.

The demon roared, and it was worthy of a _Jurassic Park_ sequence. His head might resemble Littlefoot's, but Toot-toot had been right: teeth-wise the demon was definitely more of a Sharptooth than a Longneck. And he had powers. Harry was plastered backward, pushed into the air and through the trailer door left opened. He crashed inside in a cacophony of sounds, but Molly couldn't see him.

Mouse barked ferociously and launched himself at the other animal. The demon tried to wave him away, and must not have put magic in his simple arm motion, because Mouse caught it. The dog bit—hard—before it was his turn to fly sideways.

Molly ran to the car. She looked inside, and figured it was worth a try. So she tried not to make too much noise as she opened the driver door, and slipped inside. Bloody heck, it was an English car. The wheel was on the other side. Molly looked up as she climbed to the other seat.

Harry wasn't getting back outside, and Dino-demon decided to approach. His mistake, Molly thought. The keys weren't in the ignition; that would have been too easy. She flipped open the visor, ran her fingers in the compartments around, and opened the glove box. _Bingo._

"_Fuego!_" Molly heard Harry shout. He had waited for the demon to get closer and used his hidden position. Dino-demon yelled as fire hit him, and he stumbled backwards. He didn't see Mouse arrive full speed like a bull on his side. The collision was violent. They were both propelled in opposite directions, and rolled in the dust.

Mouse's moan set Molly into action. She put the car into gear, and didn't think twice. She crashed into the demon as he was barely getting back to its feet.

He roared again—though it sounded mixed with pain. The car stumbled to a halt, engine popping as it gave out. The demon got back to its feet, furious.

A few feet ahead of the car, he whirled to face Molly. His new roar made the car tremble. So much power—Molly couldn't move. The demon's eyes locked on her through the windshield, in an intense, frightening gaze. She didn't know how he could know where she was. And then she screamed.

She screamed out of her lungs, as two pinky crests flipped opened around the demon's head.

Merciful God! This really was _Jurassic Park_.

Molly didn't dare glance at the seat next to her.

She couldn't remember why that was. So much force and tension was surrounding her all of the sudden. She drew out heavy breaths as she tried to clear her mind, but she felt more and more dizzy. Her head hurt. She rubbed at her eyes with one hand. The demon's crest, she reasoned. He was using his crests as some sort of antenna for his magic, or something.

When the pressure abruptly stopped, Molly fought to reopen her eyes. She did, just in time to see Dino-demon whirl around and hit Mouse. His tail was a bat, and Mouse was nothing more than a ball.

"_Tornarius!_"

Molly didn't remember hearing about this spell before. She couldn't see the invisible tension emerging between Harry—now back in the yard—and the demon, but she could sense it. Perhaps, after what she'd just experienced, her sensibility was more acute, because she didn't think she should be able to feel it in that way. They were frozen in place in what looked like a combat of will, and the power was only growing. This wouldn't hold longer than a few more seconds.

The explosion of power sent them both flying backwards. It was today's theme apparently. If she'd known, Molly would have put on her Superman t-shirt. Harry landed heavily on his butt, before rolling in what looked like a very painful movement for his neck. He was still luckier than Dino-demon, who slammed into the excavator.

Looking at the vehicle, a light bulb switched on in Molly's head.

She swallowed harshly while wrestling with her car door. Her fingers felt numb. She realized her legs felt numb as well when her boots touched the ground. Molly pushed toward the construction machine, and held her breath when she passed by the demon still on the ground. She saw him shaking his head, a lot like Mouse would, as she settled herself inside the cabin. Keys were in the ignition this time. Maybe she was in luck after all.

Or maybe not.

Small details: She didn't know how to use an excavator.

Pressing on a few buttons, she figured the joystick would be what she needed. It was—after a few hurried tries—and the backhoe came into motion. She collected the demon into the bucket, surprisingly with ease, and wondered if it would be the closest that she'd get to playing video games in the future.

Molly had to avoid the heap of sand, but she was quick to approach the edge of the quarry. The demon started to agitate inside the bucket. It shook.

_Hurry, Molly._

As the backhoe's end arrived to its intended destination, the bucket stopped moving. Molly stopped breathing. Was the demon preparing for something? Mouse barked, and she diverted her eyes to see him. He'd rushed to Harry, who was still on the ground, and he was grimacing in pain. His blasting rod was up, though. Oh, he must have used it to keep the demon in the bucket.

Molly released the demon into the quarry. He fell like an anchor and landed in a loud thump. Molly heard it fine, because she was already out of the excavator and running to the dump-truck.

She spilled the entirety of the bed on top of Dino-demon. And the bed was positively full of rocks, and not gravel, she could tell now.

Relief flew through Molly. She took a minute to breathe inside the dump-truck driver's seat. She focused her mind, draining out some of the energy still tugging at her.

Harry staggered to the edge of the quarry, looking down.

Molly joined him. "I've always liked geology," she said. She didn't have time to wink because Harry jumped.

"Hell's bells, Molly. You still got your veil on."

Oh! Oops.

She broke the veil. When it only was for herself, veiling could become an after-thought when she put enough will into it to begin with. She'd sleep like a log after that, though. Molly tried not to look sheepish when Harry looked her over.

"Molly," he said, and damn it, she was tired of her breathing stopping. Again. "You rock star!" He chuckled.

She laughed with him, but looked away, down at the mess of rock she'd made. Her cheeks must have been quite pink.

"I guess you could say his plan sank like a stone," Harry said. His breath was a little shaky.

"Are you all right?" Molly asked.

"I've been worse."

Molly crouched down to hug Mouse and scratched his ears as she asked him the same thing. He was fine.

"What are you going to do with him?" Molly asked Harry.

"Nothing," Harry said. "We should take Clarkson and go."

"Really?"

"I don't know who he is, and I don't know how to beat him either. Sometimes you've got to know when to walk away." He turned back towards the prefabricated unit. "We've got what we came for."

It didn't keep Harry from delivering his own warning to Dino-demon right before they left with an awakening Clarkson.

"Now, I'm the one warning you," he shouted towards the pile of rocks. "Whenever you get out of your strata, Dr. Clarkson—or any other humans—are off limits. You won't approach him, and you will leave him alone." He paused. "Or else."

Turning to Molly afterwards, Harry said, smiling, "'Or else' is my favorite part."

—M—

"Evening," Rawlins said, entering the waiting room. Murphy's partner extended Harry and Molly the two cups of coffee he'd been carrying.

"Rawlins," Harry said. "Thanks, man."

Molly echoed the sentiment. They'd been waiting for Murphy at the precinct, while she was locking up Clarkson. Unfortunately, the coffee machine had refused to give them caffeine when they'd tried earlier.

"Rough night?" Rawlins asked.

"You could say that," Harry replied.

"You look it."

"Thanks."

"Not you, kid," Rawlins told Molly. "You look great." Harry muttered something unintelligible, making Molly's smile grow bigger behind her coffee cup. "Murphy said the FBI's on the way."

"Already?"

Rawlins shrugged. "She also said they wanted to see you."

"Figured," Harry said. "What's the hubbub about?"

They had heard some agitation downstairs upon arriving.

"Some animals escaped the zoo," Rawlins said. He motioned at the TV in the corner. "You can follow it on the news…or not," he said, and gave them an apologetic look, "if it breaks, they won't replace it. Murphy shouldn't be long," he added before getting back to his office.

He'd been right. Molly wasn't halfway through her cup, when Murphy joined them with her own beverage.

"No donuts?" Harry said.

"For the last time," Murphy grumbled, "cops don't spend all their time eating donuts."

"Some stereotypes exist for a reason," Harry said.

Murphy ignored him, and chewed on her lip. "Clarkson's not making a whole lot of sense," she said.

"He created a bunch of Hulks," Harry said. "I think he was a couple of French fries short of a Happy Meal before."

"What's he saying?" Molly asked.

"Something about how we need to prepare ourselves because 'they' are coming," Murphy said, making air quotes despite the cup she was handling.

"The enchantment was intrusive," Molly said quietly. She restrained from shivering at the thought. They'd managed to break the spell, or the demon had broken it himself, they weren't sure, but what Molly had seen in Clarkson's head with her Sight hadn't been pretty.

"You all right?" Harry asked, frowning at her.

"Yeah." She shook her head in an attempt to shake the memory of Dino-demon's energy pushing on her own mind. "He's been under the demon's influence for about six weeks," Molly told Murphy. "That's a long time to deal with that kind of mind-manipulations."

"Honestly," Harry said, "he was better than I expected. He'll be marked, but he's already recovered a lot. Time should help."

Murphy nodded.

"Someone should keep an eye on him, though," Harry said. "Thomas left a message at my office. He said he'd heard what had happened at the coffee shop. I called him back."

"At this hour?" Murphy asked.

"Why not? He's a vampire," Harry said. "He said that the magic we've perceived on Clarkson's work, it's new. It's…" Harry paused as if searching for a word. "I don't know— unknown, mysterious, different. And that's what people've been after."

Murphy walked to the trash bin to throw away her cup. "The White Council, then?" she asked.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" Molly said.

Harry glanced at the open door, and lowered his voice a tad. "What if they were after this new magic, too? I mean, I didn't contact them about this case, but they didn't contact me either. All the appearances of Clarkson's magic—except for the recent one in Denver—happened in my territories as Regional Commander of the Wardens. Yet, no one called me."

"Maybe they just didn't know," Murphy said.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Maybe."

"Either way," Murphy said, "if what you're saying's true, then some other people might come after Clarkson. Hell, your dinosaur might come back. He needs protection."

Harry's face scrunched up. "I agree. I'll talk to someone," he said, "I'm just not sure who yet."

—M—

"Sergeant Murphy?" Rawlins called.

Molly looked up in direction of the door, and she tried not to cry out. She was almost sure she succeeded.

Sarah Walker was standing behind Rawlins.

Harry hadn't bothered to look up, as he'd been conversing with the Fringe team who had arrived a few hours ago, but he did react when Agent Dunham spoke up.

"Sarah," the blonde FBI agent said. "Hi!"

Murphy gave a nod to Rawlins, before her partner left, and indicated Sarah and her friend—a tall brunette man (not as tall as Harry, but close)—to enter the room.

Agent Dunham and her partner Peter Bishop were already on their feet when they did, and they rounded the table to meet with them. The greetings were warm for people who'd met "just this once" as Sarah had said. Then again, the FBI agents were probably CAT Squad fans too. Who wouldn't be?

Once the two FBI agents had arrived in Chicago, they had checked on Clarkson, and then taken Harry and Molly's testimonies. It hadn't been anything like the interrogation Harry had had to go through after the incident with the Hulk in New York. This time, they were just trying to understand what had happened, how they'd gotten the scientist back, and whether there were threats to be prepared for.

It became clear that Murphy had relentlessly tried to convince the Fringe Division that Harry wasn't involved in or responsible for what had happened, _and_ that he could help on the case, until the FBI had given out and agreed.

Agent Dunham had also assured Harry that the investigation on him would be dropped.

"Sorry to barge in like this," Sarah said eventually. "We stopped by at your office, first, but you weren't there. Obviously." Harry must have given her a questioning look because Sarah kept going immediately. "You're in the book."

"Right," Harry said. "Everything all right?"

"Oh, yes. I just, um, I don't know if you'll be interested but as a thank you for what you did yesterday, I thought I'd offer you tickets. We're playing tom—"

"Tomorrow night," Molly finished.

Sarah's friend—Chuck—laughed. "Yes."

"That's very generous," Harry said, "but you really don't have to do that."

Molly gaped at him. "He'll take them," she said.

Sarah smiled. "Yes, I insist." She handed Molly an envelope. "There's tickets for you as well, Molly."

Sarah Walker remembered her name and everything. Best day ever!

"And for you Sergeant," Sarah added.

Murphy positively looked giddy, though it would have been hard to tell for anyone who didn't know her. Harry could definitely tell considering how amused he was. Murphy thanked Sarah with a restraint Molly envied her, though.

"What about you guys?" Chuck asked the FBI agents.

"We would have stayed," Bishop said, "but we've got to head back with a prisoner."

"I love the new song, though!" Agent Dunham said. She let out a laugh very uncharacteristic of everything Molly had seen from her so far. She was very professional. "'Hulking out'? That was brilliant."

"Thought you might like it," Sarah replied, smiling.

"You guys mind if we take a break?" Agent Dunham asked Harry, Molly, and Murphy.

"Sure," Murphy said.

After another set of "thank yous" exchanged on each part, the two FBI agents left for the coffee machine with Sarah and Chuck, who wished them to have a great time at the concert.

"Small world," Harry said.

They sat back down at the table, exhausted. They didn't even have the energy to chat for a moment, but Rawlins stopped by, taking a break as well. Remembering how the animals escape from the zoo had been everybody's topic of conversation that morning, Molly figured Murphy's partner had followed the news.

"Hey," Molly asked him, "what happened to the cougar?"

**Fin.**

* * *

**A/N:** _I want to thank you all for reading this story and reviewing. I hope you've enjoyed _A Jolly, Rocky, Molly Night_. Let me know! :)  
_

_Thank you also to_ **mxpw**_, beta extraordinaire. All remaining mistakes are mine._

_And I'm not forgetting why I wrote this story:_ _happy birthday, **JoeltotheD**!_


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